


Love the Player, Hate the Game

by darter_blue



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Blow Jobs, Coming Out, Established Relationship, Infidelity, M/M, Making Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-25 18:14:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12041469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darter_blue/pseuds/darter_blue
Summary: Jack has made a terrible mistake. And now he has to do everything and anything he can to convince Bitty to come back and help fix what he's broken.





	1. Jack

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [More Like Him](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9190919) by [SummerFrost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SummerFrost/pseuds/SummerFrost). 



> This is inspired by a brilliant fic by SummerFrost that left me a bit emotionally raw. It diverges from the work 'More like Him' after an episode of infidelity on Jack's part where an exercise in bonding with Kent Parson leads to a mistake that Jack can't take back.
> 
> The infidelity occurs before this fic begins and is only implied/ discussed.
> 
> The relationship between Jack and Parse is all over by the time this fic picks up.

 

Jack gets home from his roadie in vegas and can feel his nervous energy like a furious charge. It runs through him, electric, desperate to find an outlet, a way to escape the confines of his body. And he knows that he needs to tell Bitty what he did, because this feeling like his skin is on fire, it won’t go anywhere - not without booze or drugs to push it down, he knows that first hand - if he doesn’t say something.

 

He knows that Bitty can tell, can see the anxiety rolling off him, that something is very wrong.

    ‘Jack?’ it’s a small sound, but it’s full of fear. Bitty’s eyes are wide, lips parted, arms frozen in motion at the Kitchen counter, pie crust forgotten.

 

Jack tries to say hello, anything really, to at least find a slice of normalcy. ‘I…’ but nothing really seems to come out. He dumps his bags in the entry as Bitty abandons his baking and comes to grip Jack’s hand and look up into his eyes imploringly.

 

‘Are you okay, honey? What’s happened?’

 

Jack runs his hands through his hair, dislodging Bitty’s hand in the process, knowing he shouldn’t let Bitty touch him yet, or he might not be able to get this out. The sudden reality of his beautiful, bright boyfriend, waiting here in their house for Jack, baking for him and loving him while he’s away, hits him with a wave of nausea. It’s physical and it hurts, he grimaces and tries to take deep breaths, focus on the sound of Bitty’s breathing to keep him from panicking.

 

    ‘Jack, sweetheart, can you talk to me?’ He doesn’t say, you’re scaring me, he knows not to panic Jack, but Jack can tell that he is.

    He takes a deep breath and looks into Bitty’s wide brown eyes. ‘I have to tell you something.’

    ‘Okay, honey,’ Bitty says, twisting his hands in an effort not to reach out for Jack, ‘you can tell me anything, you know that.’

    ‘I did something,’ Jack says quickly, watching Bitty swallow heavily at the weight of the words. ‘I did something wrong.’ and he knows it was wrong. He knew as soon as he had done it that it was a mistake. He felt sick with it, the wrongness of it. But also with the understanding that he had done it for a reason, and that reason was hard to ignore.

 

Bitty just watches him and waits. Jack can see tears welling, but he’s not crying yet. ‘In Vegas?’ He asks. Jack nods. ‘With Kent?’ he asks in a whisper. Jack feels all the tension in his body dissipate at the words and all that’s left is a numbness, or maybe just the absence of anything, like a pit in his stomach. He nods again. ‘What did you do, Jack? Can you tell me?’ Bitty asks more firmly. Jack notices the lack of any endearment in the question.

 

    ‘We were talking.’ He says softly, trying to keep hold of Bitty’s eyes, knowing he deserves at least that, ‘we were talking and it was nice, it was good. It was like before.’ He tries to explain in a way that Bitty can understand. ‘And everything just felt right…’ Bitty flinches at that, almost like he’s taken a hit and Jack realises how hurtful that might sound. ‘Not that everything with you isn’t right, it is, Bitty, it’s perfect. I don’t really know…’ he’s struggling to make sense of his actions - to be honest he doesn’t fully understand his own feelings here - and Bitty is visibly shaking at Jack’s words.

Jack reaches out for him, to try and comfort him with his touch in a way he knows he can always comfort Bitty when he’s upset, but Bitty recoils from the gesture and it's like a slap to the face.

    ‘Bitty, no. I’m not… I’m not saying this right. Please don’t get upset. I love you so much-’

    ‘Jack.’ Bitty interrupts. Colder than Jack has ever heard him. ‘I need you to tell me _exactly_ what happened.’ His eyes on Jack are fierce and determined, ‘and _I_ get to decide how upset I will or won’t be.’ Jack just nods his understanding. In the reverse position, Jack would need to know the details. God, in the reverse position, Jack probably would have exploded by now in a white hot ball of anger and rage. And of course, now he realises that he had not once thought to see this situation from Bitty’s perspective, because if he had, it would have - should have - never happened in the first place. He resigns himself to giving Bitty the facts.

    ‘We were watching TV, and we got caught up in the moment, and I let him… he gave me a… a blow job.’ Jack huffs the end of that sentence in a rush.

    ‘And then what?’ Bitty asks, one hand curled in a loose fist over his lips, the other gripping around his stomach protectively. His gaze though, never wavers from Jack’s own.

    ‘And then I left.’ Jack says imploringly, ‘and now I’m here.’

    ‘Did you kiss him?’

    ‘What?’

    ‘Did you kiss him, on the mouth?’ Bitty’s eyes have narrowed, as if kissing Kenny would somehow be even worse than him sucking his cock. Jack can’t understand why that would be.

    ‘Yes.’ A sob escapes from behind Bitty’s hand before he can catch it.

    ‘Why?’

    ‘Bitty-’

    ‘Why, Jack?’

    ‘I don’t know.’

    ‘Don’t you lie to me.’

    ‘Bitty, please-’

    ‘Do you still love him?’ He asks quietly. Jack has to close his eyes against the pain in Bitty’s expression. ‘Do you, Jack?’

    Jack takes a deep breath and opens his eyes onto the tear stained but strikingly beautiful face of his best friend. ‘Yes.’

 

Bitty breaks down for real at that answer, collapsing in on himself and tearing away from Jack’s reach. Jack follows him to the bedroom where he is frantically packing a bag.

    ‘I have to get back to the Haus. I have classes tomorrow and Shitty needs his car back.’

    ‘Bitty, stay and talk to me, please.’

    ‘I don’t have anything to say to you right now.’

    ‘You can’t drive like this, Bitty.’

    ‘You!’ Bitty cries, suddenly furious, ‘Do not get to tell me what I can and can not do, Jack Zimmerman.’ Jack throws his hands up in surrender as Bitty flinches back a third time from his attempt at intimacy.

    ‘I just don’t want you to get hurt, Eric’ Jack is struggling to keep his breathing even, his anxiety in the face of Bitty’s rejection - understandable as it is - threatening to swallow him whole.

    ‘Well, it’s too late for that now, isn’t it, Jack.’

Jack tries once more to hold onto Bitty, gripping his forearm gently as he attempts to pass Jack and leave the bedroom.

    ‘Please don’t go, Bits. I love you so much, you must know that.’ Bitty stops to look down at the hand on his arm and places his own hand atop it before looking back up at Jack.

    ‘Sometimes,’ he says, looking briefly away and then back at Jack, ‘sometimes, most of the time, that feels true. But something like this. Jack, I love you, am so _in_ love with you, that I’m not sure I could ever do something like this to you.’ He moves away then, to sit on the bed and fold his arms in on himself. Jack has to look away. ‘I guess I can understand you loving Kent still, everything you've shared, all that _history_ , but you should have talked to me about this first. And you didn’t. You just followed your impulses and you didn’t even _think_ about me. And if you did-’ Bitty puts a hand up to cut off Jack’s response, ‘-if you did think about me and went through with it anyway, then however much you love me, Jack, well, it must not be enough.’ And Jack tries desperately to think of a way he can make this right. Can make Bitty understand that he does love him, that he can’t imagine his life without Bitty in it, but that the same applies to Kenny in a way, because Kenny will always be a part of him, they have shared too much together.

 

As Bitty leaves, Jack thinks about the hole that Bitty’s being gone will leave in Jack’s life. He thinks about the kind of warmth and happiness he had never even known before Bitty. He thinks about how his love for Kent is physical and raw but also painful and destructive and he knows, absolutely, that this is the biggest fuck up of his life, to date.

 

_X_

 

It’s weeks before he can get Bitty to answer any of his attempts at communication. When he finally does, it’s just a text, but that text does more to alleviate Jack’s crippling anxiety than any of the therapy, ice time, or increased dose of lexapro he has been clinging to in the wake of Bitty’s leaving.

 

**If you want any chance that this might work again you need to give me space and time, Jack.**

 

Jack collapses onto the floor in his kitchen as he reads, in relief. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. There is no way Bitty would say there was a chance if he didn’t mean it. And a chance is all that Jack needs. He can wait. He knows, if his life so far has taught him anything, he knows he has the patience to wait and work for what he wants. And he knows without a doubt now, that what he wants is Bitty.

 

His phone had been glaringly silent, not just from Bitty, but from everyone, not immediately after Bitty left, but probably from the time it had taken him to get back to Samwell, and for the others to find out what happened. Knowing Bitty, he would have been very reluctant to say anything that might turn the team against Jack, but knowing the frogs and Rans and Holst and Lards, they would have weeded out the cause of his depression and taken his side without question. Bitty just inspired that kind of protective love in people. Excepting for Jack himself, it seemed, who had shattered him to pieces; he was so good at it, all the practice he had had when Bitty was fresh from Georgia, so full of life and sunshine that Jack’s self preservation instincts had kicked in. Pushing him away with reckless abandon so as not to give in and fiercely attach himself, afraid to lose everything he had worked so hard for. How ironic that his everything would turn out to be Bitty himself.

 

Shitty has been surprisingly quiet too, maybe waiting for Jack to seek him out when he was ready (he wasn’t). Jack is not looking forward to Shitty’s psychoanalytical smackdown. The most surprising, though, is the radio silence from Parse. Jack waits everyday for an angry text, or phone call, or even personal visit (knowing Kenny) to demand some kind of explanation.

 

But having received the text from Bitty, and knowing there is potential for Jack to fix what he has broken, Jack decides it might be time for he and Kenny to finally talk it out.

 

And then he chickens out and sends a text. Because Jack is nothing if not one hundred percent reliable to avoid emotional confrontation.

 

 **I think I just missed being your friend, and being your friend only ever meant sex, and I got confused and I made an awful, awful mistake. It wasn’t your fault and I’m sorry. I just don’t know if we can ever be friends again, if that’s what our friendship means. Because I don’t** **love you like that anymore, and I’m sorry, Kenny.**

 

His reply takes three hours.

 

**I should tell your little bf**

 

He isn’t surprised by the aggressive response. But he is disappointed. He and Kent had only so recently been getting better at talking again. His reply is swift.

 

**I already did that**

 

**Let me guess, twink can’t live without you**

 

The words make Jack’s fists clench. But knowing that was exactly their intended reaction helps keep Jack from taking the bait.

 

**He's a person, Kenny, not an object to be used to hurt me, and he didn't deserve any of this.**

 

Jack adds,

 

**And actually, he left.**

 

It feels right to be honest.

 

**I would never leave you, Jack.**

 

The words on the screen take the air from Jack’s lungs. He knows they are meant to manipulate, but also that they are absolutely true. Kent would never let Jack go, but Jack can see now why he has to, otherwise they will just keep tearing each other, themselves, to pieces.

 

**I know. And that's not healthy, Kenny. I should have stopped you, this is on me.  But even if Eric never forgives me, we can't be together. We'd destroy each other.**

 

**Fuck you Zimms**

 

The anger hurts, because he knows Kent is hurting.

 

**I hope one day we can be friendly to each other.  But I can never be your friend Kent.  You're too much a part of my addiction, you and the booze and the pills all wrapped up to fuel and then soothe and I can't do it anymore. I'm so sorry, Kenny.**

 

He gets no reply.

  


_X_

  


It's another three weeks and Bitty has yet to pick up any of his things from Jack’s apartment (so much of Bitty’s had migrated over the eighteen months they had been together). Jack likes to take that as a good sign. His positivity is rewarded with a text from Bitty.

 

**Coffee? Monday?**

 

Jack nearly cries. Bitty must still have his schedule memorised.

 

**Yes! Wherever! What time? I will be there!**

 

Jack's not sure he's ever used so much punctuation in a text before. But he knows Bitty. And Bitty would _not_ meet him for coffee just to break his heart. (He's ninety eight percent sure).

 

It takes ten minutes of very strung out waiting before Jack gets a reply.

 

**Pastiche. I wanna try their Religieuse. 2pm.**

 

And then he really does cry. Tears of exhausted relief, because he gets to see Bitty again, gets the chance to hear his gorgeous honeyed voice and do whatever it takes, whatever is asked of him, to make it right and have him back.

 

**Absolutely Bits. I'm there. I can't wait!**

 

**Jack. It's just coffee.**

 

And because Jack is feeling brave.  Or foolish. Or just drunk on the idea of Bitty, he texts back.

 

**And Religieuse. ;)**

 

He watches the ellipses with equal parts dread and excitement.

 

**Chirp chirp, Mr Zimmerman.**

 

Jack's resulting smile, could probably be seen from space.

 

_X_

 

Jack gets to the cafe half an hour early. Bitty gets there ten minutes late. Arguably the longest ten minutes of Jack’s life. He looks so good Jack almost forgets to breathe. He's bundled up against the Providence winter in a forest green pea coat, navy blue scarf, grey knit beanie and dark brown corduroy pants. And underneath it all he is sunshine personified, delicate features, long lashes, faded freckles across his nose and cheeks flushed from the cold. Jack stands awkwardly as he approaches the table, not sure the etiquette of greeting a boyfriend who might _not_ be about to shatter you into a million peices. Bitty rescues him as always, leaning in and up to grip Jacks bicep and kiss him gently on the cheek.   

 

Jack very narrowly manages not to squeal.

 

He closes his eyes and breathes in the cinnamon and maple scent of _right_ and _home_ that Bitty has probably always been to Jack. The contact is quick and subtle really, but Jack feels it linger on his skin, touches it a tad too reverently for the middle of a bustling patisserie and doesn’t give a shit. He wants to keep this feeling, whatever happens. He finally sits down once Bitty has seated himself and is watching him curiously through wide, brown eyes.

‘Hi,’ Jack says. The corners of Bitty’s mouth turn up slightly in the ghost of a smile.

‘Hi, Jack.’ Jack lets out a heavy breath and clasps his hands in his lap, desperate as they are to reach out to Bitty. They order coffee and Bitty orders his pastry with an endearing smile at the girl behind the register. They sit back down to wait and the silence stretches.

‘So-’ Jack finally starts, but can’t find a way to finish.

    ‘So,’ Bitty repeats. ‘How are you?’

    ‘I’m…’ Jack huffs a rueful laugh at himself, ‘I’m kind of dying here, waiting to find out why you wanted to see me.’

‘I got a tweet, a few weeks ago,’ Bitty says, ‘from Parse.’ Jack sucks in a hiss of air through his teeth. But he waits for Bitty to continue. ‘It said, Congratulations, you win.’

Jack shakes his head as it falls into his hands. ‘Fuck, I’m sorry.’

‘Why would he say that, Jack?’ Bitty asks, voice neutral.

In lieu of hashing out a painful explanation, Jack finds the text conversation on his phone and passes it to Bitty. He takes a moment to read it and his expression belies nothing. Jack is terrified, Bitty’s poker face is not usually this good.

    ‘Did you mean this?’ He asks, finally.

    ‘Absolutely. Every word.’ Bitty takes a breath and reaches both palms to his cheeks, sliding them to press together under his chin. He nods and squares his shoulders, steeling himself to look at Jack again.

    ‘I want… I have a few… conditions.’ Jack nearly passes out at the table. He manages to nod frantically for Bitty to continue, not trusting his voice at that moment. ‘If we try this again, it has to be at my pace, every step.’

    Jack just keeps nodding. ‘Yes,’ he chokes out, ‘of course, Bits.’

    ‘And you need to tell me everything. Every gory detail I ask for, you have to give it to me’ Jack grimaces, because he thinks that’s a terrible idea, but if it’s what Bitty wants then he will give it to him.

He nods again. ‘Okay.’

‘I think this is a Kent Parson specific problem, am I right?’ Jack isn’t sure how that’s a condition but he agrees nonetheless.

‘Yes.’ He swallows audibly, wanting desperately to make Bitty understand that he will never let anything like this ever happen again.

‘I need to be able to trust that you won’t do this again, next time you see him.’

‘You can.’

‘I don’t know if I can, Jack. Every time I close my eyes-’

‘Bits,’ Jack cuts him off, horrified at the despair on Eric’s face.

‘I just see you together. It makes me feel sick, Jack.’

‘I can’t lose you again, Bitty, I won’t fuck up like this again, I swear.’

‘I’m not sure I can believe you, honey.’

‘What does that mean though, Eric?’ Jack asks, heart in his throat. Eric takes a minute to reply.

‘I want to try. I don’t know how, but maybe we can just work on it?’ Jack remembers to breathe again and nods emphatically. His neck is really getting a workout today.

‘Yes, we can. We can. I will find a way, Bitty, to make you trust me again.’

‘I hope so, sweetheart, I really do.’ Jack doesn’t miss the return of Bitty’s endearments. It’s like beautiful music, curling around him and filling him with love. ‘I missed you.’

‘Oh god, Bitty, I missed you so much!’ Jack’s words just spill out of him. ‘Nothing feels right without you.’ He can see the tears in Bitty’s eyes, but they don’t fall.

‘I know.’ he says. But it’s like he’s not sure if that’s wonderful or terrible. ‘I’m so angry with you, Jack, but I think I owe it to myself to see if we can try again. See if we can make it work.’

‘I get it, Bitty. I’m angry with myself too.’ Jack’s fists clench as they rest on the table top. Bitty gently reaches over to cover them with his own.

‘I don’t want to be angry anymore, Jack.’ Jack’s head just keeps nodding as a tear tracks down his cheek and his head swims with the idea that he can have this again. ‘Be patient with me though, okay?’

‘I will, Bitty. Whatever you need, I’ll give it to you, I promise.’

 

He remembers the conversation he had had with his father about this, reacting to the pain and disappointment he could hear down the phone line. He remembers trying to explain why he had done it, apart from the misplaced love he still felt for Parse and the simple muscle memory of wanting him to take up Jack’s space so wholly. It felt like maybe, self destruction. Because he’s always known he doesn’t deserve Bitty and on some level he wanted to prove it to himself. But having now hit rock bottom, almost losing everything, like he had with his overdose, he realises how desperately he was willing to fight for what he wants. Cling to it by his fingernails until he can claw his way back to happiness. Not just existing, but real happiness. He tries to explain it again now to Bitty. And Bitty seems, perhaps reluctantly, able to understand what Jack is struggling to say.

    ‘Just Promise me,’ Bitty says, at the end of Jack’s stilted explanation, ‘that this is what you really want.’

‘I have never,’ Jack says, sincere to his bones, ‘never wanted anything more.’ And Bitty cries into his coffee as he drinks it, hiccuping into his cup with the force of his emotional reaction.

It takes him a minute to quietly say, ‘Okay, Jack. Okay.’

 

They have to take the Religieuse to go.


	2. Bitty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conclusion. From Bitty’s point of view.

Bitty looks up into Jack’s spectacularly handsome face and tries to remember that he really wants to take this slow.

 

Yes, he’s missed Jack (Lord has he) but the constant need to feel Jack under his fingertips at war with the pain and imagery of Jack’s betrayal has been ripping him into little Bittle pieces. Bitty suspected, knew really, that Jack’s feelings for Kent Parson were unresolved, their relationship was just too volatile. But he had (blindly, stupidly) trusted that Jack would put Bitty first if that volatility tried to present itself in a physical way. If he had properly understood the extent of Jack’s feelings (he still  _ loved  _ Kent, he had said) he would never have encouraged their reunion. 

 

And that naivety ate at him awfully, he was so humiliated at having pushed Jack to  _ talk _ to Parse, to  _ reconnect _ . Try to reestablish their  _ friendship. _ What a fool he was. Kent was not some crush. Kent was not an old buddy Jack had lost touch with. Kent was his first love, his first relationship, his first  _ everything _ (as far as Bitty could tell) and a prominent feature of Jack’s near fatal breakdown, the loss of his dreams, the realisation of his addiction. Jack’s weakness. What did Bitty really expect would happen, forcing the two of them to put aside their antagonism and spend time together.

 

It kept Bitty awake at night, most nights, the idea that it was all his own fault. The idea that he had been so misguidedly self confident as to push Jack onto Kent and think he would come out unscathed. Bitty had let himself believe that Jack, perfect specimen of athleticism and beauty, hardest working, highest skilled player in the NHL - at least presently - smart, sexy, driven, focussed, Jack, could ever be satisfied by Bitty alone. Little ol’ Bitty, with his too loud enthusiasm and his constant baking and his effeminate mannerisms and his almost total apathy to academic endeavours. Bitty was cute, on a good day he might even feel  _ hot _ , but he was no Kent Parson, GQ’s sexiest athlete of 2016 (mostly because Jack was too awkward in interviews to make it past fifth, a crime as far as Bitty was concerned), Captain of the Las Vegas Aces and two time stanley cup winning, champion hockey player. 

 

But in the cold light of day, Bitty could be more realistic. More  _ logical _ (can you believe), than the heartbroken, lonely, hot mess, nighttime version of himself. He and Jack had been together just a few months shy of two years, and yes it was complicated - they spent more time apart than together, with Bitty in his senior year at Samwell and Jack on the road with the Falconers for the majority of the hockey season - but it was also loving and heated and fun and  _ comfortable _ . They just fit together so perfectly, Bitty hadn’t seen this coming. And he didn’t deserve it. And he wouldn’t stand for it.

 

Well...

 

He wanted to be strong, and self respecting, and take no prisoners and all. But he also just wanted Jack, so fiercely, it was a physical ache with no salve to calm it.

 

‘Lardo?’ He had asked, curled in her lap, soft fingers stroking through his hair. ‘Is it weak that I want him back?’

‘Oh, no, Bits. Of course you do.’ She said quietly, fingers stroking, voice calming, ‘You love him. You love each  _ other. _ I don’t doubt that for a second.’

 

Lardo was the only person he had confided in and had driven straight from Boston after their tearful phone conversation. As far as the guys in the house were concerned, he and Jack were fighting and nothing more. They had all, bless them, steadfastly taken Bitty’s side (with not one clue as to what they were standing for) and refused to answer Jack’s requests for Bittle related communication. Bitty suspected that Lardo had told Shitty, though neither of them had confessed to that explicitly, Shitty had been ambiguously supportive and affectionate whenever they spoke on the phone. 

‘I think maybe I want to try again,’ he whispered, tears falling gently, eyes closed to the sensation of Lardo’s loving touch.

‘Whatever you want to do, Bitty,’ tucking his hair behind his ear, ‘I’ll support you. You know that right? I’m with you all the way.’

 

Bitty looked up into the open face of his closest friend (beside Jack, who didn’t count, and Shitty, who came as part of Lardo’s set now anyway) and sighed with something like relief.

‘Thank you, honey.’

‘Whatever you need, Bits. I’m here. Okay?’

‘Okay.’

 

Bitty sent his first text back to Jack that night, wanting to reach out and let Jack know that it wasn’t over. But he also needed time to fully decide what he could or couldn’t allow himself to forgive. 

 

**If you want any chance that this might work again you need to give me space and time, Jack.**

 

One week later, a tweet from Parse sent him into something of a tailspin. Without any communication from Jack (to Bitty or any of the team, his hockey robot boyfriend was a very thorough creature), Kent’s words burned in Bitty’s chest. 

 

**Kent Parson** @Parse90 - 09 Mar 17

@omgcheckplease Congratulations. You win. 

 

Bitty found himself on the phone without even realising he had dialled anyone’s number. 

 

‘Bits?’

‘...Shitty..?’

‘Bitty, brah, you okay? You sound...lost’

‘Umm, yeah, not really, no.’ Bitty let the silence stretch out while Shitty found his words.

‘Is this about Jack?’

 

He didn’t answer right away. He took a deep breath and worked to keep his vision from whiting out. He was angry. Definitely angry about the tweet. But also ridiculously relieved. Because what could that mean except that Jack had cut ties with Parse? And nauseous, almost like he had vertigo and the room was spinning.

 

‘Bitty, talk to me, Bits, you there?’ Shitty called out to him with real worry in his voice. 

‘Yeah, I’m here. Shitty. I just…’ he took another deep breath to steady himself, ‘I just got a tweet from Parson-’ He could hear Shitty curse violently away from his phone.

‘Hang on Bitty, I’m looking at it now.’ There was a pause while Shitty brought up twitter on his phone. ‘What the fuck, Bits?’

‘I don’t know, Shitty, I don't know.’ His breathing was picking up again

‘That dick!’

‘Should I, I mean, I should just ignore it right?’

‘Yes!’ Shitty shouted down the line. ‘Yes, sorry. Do not let that fucker suck you into his manipulative drama.’

‘Okay, okay.’

‘Bitty, do you want me to call Jack?’

Bitty thinks about that seriously for a moment. ‘No. I mean, if you want, but not on my behalf. I’m not ready yet.’

‘Whatever you need, Bits, I’m here for you, brah.’

‘Did Lardo, umm, did she tell you, you know, about this?’ Bitty asked, not sure if he wanted Shitty to know the details or not.

‘Yeah, she did.’ Shitty said softly. ‘I’m really sorry, Bits, for what it’s worth.’

‘It’s worth a lot, Shitty Knight. You’re worth a lot. To me.’ He could hear Shitty chuckling at him. 

‘Bitty, you are an absolute fucking Gem, little man. A fucking God. Don’t let anybody tell you differently, okay?’

‘I won’t, Shitty.’ Bitty laughed into his hand. ‘Thank you.’

‘And don’t let Fucking Parse get to you, okay? If he really wanted to have a real life fucking dialogue with you he wouldn’t fucking public fucking message you, yeah?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Fucking dickbag.’ Bitty laughed again. He could always count on Shitty to talk him down from a ledge. 

‘Thanks, Shitty. I’m gonna go. Maybe go cry in Chowder’s lap for a while.’

‘Dude, I would totally fucking join you if I was there.’

‘I bet you would, honey.’ 

 

It takes Bitty another two weeks to work up the nerve to text Jack. And even then it’s just to ask him to coffee. Somewhere public, where he can’t fall into the spell of Jack Zimmermann (is there such a place? Probably not) and forget everything that he needs to say. 

 

And when Jack chirped him about his _just_ _coffee_ remark (because Jack had some serious punctuation in that text. It melted Bitty’s poor little heart to see him so excited, honestly), he had huffed a laugh at his phone and then nearly cried at the familiarity of the moment. So he threw Jack a bone and flirted just a tad. And then spent the days leading up to their date ping ponging between hysterical excitement and paralysing fear. 

 

And after saying his piece, and the tears, and reading the, frankly, eye opening (there was still so much Bitty didn't know) text conversation between Jack and Parse, Bitty finds himself standing outside of an overpriced patisserie with coffee cream filled choux pastry in a pretty box and a desperate need to kiss, touch, taste, just... breathe Jack in, he realises that taking it slow is probably going to kill him. 

 

_X_

  
  
  


Bitty fidgets to keep his hands to himself as he and Jack stand awkwardly on the footpath outside of the patisserie. He knows his eyes are red and puffy from being an emotional lightweight but tries not to focus on it. 

 

‘Jack,’ Bitty says, and something in his tone, or his expression, must betray the hold he’s trying to keep on his affection. 

‘Yeah, Bits?’ Jack asks with a smile.

‘Should we, would it be okay, if we… well… I don’t have to be back at the house right away…’ Bitty struggles to articulate his want because he’s not sure he’s even ready to want it. But Jack catches the meaning behind his bumbling and his eyes lift with happy surprise.

‘You want to come home, Bits?’ And he reaches for Bitty’s hand.

‘Jack,’ Bitty admonishes quietly as he tries to take his hand back, ‘someone might see us.’ Jack just laces their fingers together and drags Bitty firmly into his personal space. 

‘I so don’t give a shit, Bittle.’ The words seem like they should be aggressive but the smile behind them is too genuinely joyful and they just sound teasing. ‘After all of this, I just… I just want to have you in my life, Eric, and I want the whole world to know that you’re there.’

 

Bitty really wishes they weren’t having this conversation in public.

 

‘Jack, maybe we should talk about this at home.’

‘Okay.’ It seems like he wants to say more, but instead he gently tugs Bitty along by the hand, opening the car door for him when they get to where it’s parked and safely tucking him inside. Bitty keeps a gentle hold of the pastry box in his lap and Jack looks over at him fondly while he drives. ‘I don’t suppose you're going to want to share that religieuse with me when we get home?’ The way the french word sounds on Jack’s tongue is sinful.

‘Why does  _ religieuse _ sound so much nicer when you say it?

Jack laughs brightly at Bitty’s abysmal pronunciation. ‘Because you butcher my language, mon lapin.’

‘I’ll thank you very much, mister Zimmermann, to keep those nasty thoughts to yourself.’ Bitty says playfully. Happiness is radiating off of Jack in waves. And Bitty has missed this, the easy banter, and he’ll let Jack have it for now, because he’s happy and he’s hopeful, that maybe this can work. But he knows how much Jack can hurt him too, and that knowledge is sitting in Bitty, present and waiting. It clouds the moment just a little, to know that it’s there. 

 

Jack doesn’t let go of Bitty all the way up to the apartment. As soon as the door closes behind them he crowds him into it, strong hands cup Bitty’s hips, sharply cut cheekbones and an angular nose nuzzle into the skin behind Bitty’s ear and the contact is electric. Bitty has to draw on every reserve in his possession to push Jack away. Jack’s hurt and concern are painful, but unavoidable. 

‘Jack, honey, I’m not ready for that yet.’ Bitty says softly, and Jack seems to take it well, smiling and nodding at the endearment, soaking in the affection of the pet names as he always does. Bitty would worry he was abusing the use of them if it was actually a conscious decision. 

‘Of course, Bits, whatever you need.’

‘Maybe we could sit down and watch a movie for a bit. Order some takeout later. You know, Netflix and chill.’ he laughs at the innuendo, ‘except actually just  _ really _ netflix and chill.’

‘What’s the difference?’ Jack asks, looking at Bitty, slightly bewildered.  _ This boy, honestly _ .

‘Never you mind, honey. Just pick me something to watch okay?’ 

  
  


_X_

  
  


Some things still gnaw at Bitty’s decision to try to forgive Jack, one, the idea that the image of his and Kent’s  _ intimacy  _ (fucking, Bitty, be honest. Bill Clinton not believing cocksucking is sex doesn’t mean a damn thing to you), would haunt him. Especially at moments when Jack might try to be intimate with Bitty. Or even the reverse. Would he be constantly worried that Kent was just better at it than he was? Would Jack be silently comparing them the whole time? It was exhausting, being stressed about how much something might be stressful. It felt ridiculous aswell, and Bitty was loath to know what Shitty or Lardo would have to say about his insecurity. But in the peace and quiet of their living room, he and Jack seem to fall quickly and effortlessly back into the comfort of their relationship. 

As they watch Chef (for the fifth time) and let their Thai take out settle, Bitty sinks lower and lower into the lounge until finally his head is resting in Jack’s lap. He feels tentative fingers reach out to card through his floppy hair.

‘Is this okay?’ Jack asks softly.

‘Mmhmm,’ Bitty replies, emphasising his assent with a lazy nod. 

After a minute of relaxing massage he hears Jack whisper, ‘Thank you, Bits,’ and twists to look up at the reverence in Jack’s expression. 

‘What for, baby?’

‘For letting me have this.’ Jack sweeps the hair off Bitty’s forehead with a tenderness that settles into his bones. ‘For coming home.’

Bitty is saved from trying to decide how he feels about that by his cell ringing.

 

‘This is Lardo, I’m gonna take it real quick,’ he says to Jack, extricating himself from Jack’s lap and slipping into the spare bedroom. 

He answers the call.

‘Hey, Lardo.’

‘Bits? Where are you?’

‘I’m at Jack’s’

‘Oh.’

‘Sorry, I should have called you.’

‘It’s ok, dude, but yeah, Shits and I have been waiting for your call. We thought you might’ve been ready a while ago.’

‘Oh dear, I guess I just got caught up.’

‘Oh.’ She says again. Bitty can hear the worry in her tone. ‘Do you still need a lift back to the house?’ Bitty thinks about that before answering. He could stay. He has enough of his stuff here that Jack could take him home tomorrow after practice and he’d still be home in time for his late Tuesday lecture. But he was serious about not losing sight of his goals here. It had been nice to have this time with Jack, to see how much Jack still loves him and know that he’s willing to let Bitty be in control of how and when they might start moving forward. But he also doesn’t want to jump back in head first and then be devastated if it doesn’t all work again like it should. Like he hopes it can. 

‘Bitty?’ Lardo has been waiting too long for his response.

‘Yeah, I’m here. Sorry, hun, yes. A lift would be great. Can y'all swing past and pick me up at Jack’s?’ And Lardo utters her affirmation with a sigh of relief.

‘We sure can, Bits. Be there in about forty minutes, okay?’

‘Okay. I’ll be ready.’

 

He makes his way back to Jack, who is waiting for him, perched on the edge of the couch but trying to look like he hadn’t been listening. Bless his heart, Jack is many things but  _ subtle _ isn’t one of them.

‘Shitty and Lardo are gonna pick me up in about forty minutes or so.’ He says, as casually as he can manage. Like,  _ no Jack, I have no conflicting emotions about this and you. I totally know what I'm doing here…  _ Jack looks like a kicked puppy at the announcement.

‘So soon?’ 

‘Yeah. They promised Chowder they’d visit and it's getting late.’

‘Well, I can drop you home tomorrow, Bitty, if you want to stay.’ Jack stands up and reaches for Bitty, ‘you should stay.’

‘Jack,’ Bitty, fighting his instinct, leans away from him. ‘I can’t stay. I'm sorry.’

Jack seems to check himself before he makes contact. ‘No, I'm sorry, Bits, I didn't mean to press. I just miss you.’

‘I miss you too sweetheart, but I really need to ease myself back into this slowly, alright? I need to find how all our pieces are gonna fit back together, before we go too far jamming them in again.’ Jack smiles a sad little smile and crosses his arms over his chest, but he nods his understanding. 

‘Can we make a plan, maybe. To at least speak again?’ Jack asks hopefully. Bitty is equal parts pleased and disappointed that he is being so accommodating. 

‘Sure, honey. But we've got some time. Lets sit back down for a bit okay?’

 

So they sit and watch Jon Favreau eat beignets and make perfect grilled cheese sandwiches, with running commentary (‘I still don’t think you need three types of cheese’ - Jack, ‘Hush your mouth!’ - Bitty) and their bodies just find their way back to each other on the couch; so that when Lardo texts to say she’s downstairs, Bitty’s head is resting on Jack’s shoulder and Jack’s thumb is rubbing circles into Bitty’s bicep. He doesn’t want to leave. 

‘That’s Lardo, sweetheart.’ Bitty says, sitting up reluctantly. ‘I have to go.’

Jack takes a deep breath and nods his head. ‘Okay, Bits.’ Bitty’s hand stretches out to rest on Jack’s thigh and he looks up into sad, ice blue eyes.

‘I’ll call you tomorrow night though, okay? So you don’t worry.’ Bitty knows all too well Jack’s capacity to become anxious when given time to think. 

‘Merci, mon lapin,’ Jack says, slowly sliding his hand over Bitty’s. The combination of Jack’s voice, the language, and his touch, send a shiver through Bitty. He looks up to see that heat mirrored in Jack’s expression. And yes, he wants to take it slow, but he’s not dead, lord help him. So when his body leans in and his chin lifts, tilting his head back, eyes never leaving Jack’s, Jack’s body answers in the way it knows best, by reaching down and catching Bitty’s lips with his own. It’s a sweet kiss, not heavy, no force behind it, just a gentle touch of their tongues and Bitty softly pulling at Jack’s bottom lip and then opening back up to Jack again and again. A second text notification interrupts and Bitty leans back slowly, one hand still resting on Jack’s thigh and the other, his chest.

‘I really have to go,’ he whispers and finally drags himself up and off the couch, away from the pull of Jack’s magical mouth and hands and voice. Jack catches him before he turns away to leave.

‘I love you,’ he says.

‘I know, honey,’ Bitty smiles softly, ‘I love you too.’

 

_X_

 

It’s another month of late night phone calls, sprawling text conversations, four skype sessions and two face to face visits before Bitty makes a plan to spend the night with Jack. It’s not even really a plan, more of an accidental arrangement, when Jack asks him to spend the saturday after patriots day in Providence for the Falcs playoff game at home. Samwell’s frozen four journey ended at round three to Harvard (Bitty’s pretty proud to have captained the team so far, though most of his shots on goal in the last two months have been entirely fuelled by rage. It’s a surprisingly accurate motivator) and though his finals loom ever closer, he has so much more free time now, it seems a waste not to take advantage. But then the Falcs end up winning the first four games of the round and knock the blackhawks out of the playoffs. So Jack has no game and Bitty has a train ticket and a free weekend and it just makes sense to spend it with Jack. And it doesn’t occur to him to freak out until he’s halfway there. 

 

‘Shitty, help! I need a pep talk.’ Bitty wails (discreetly, he is on a train) as his phone connects. 

‘What kind of pep talk? Cause I am not feeling the pep today, brah. Today is a smack my face into a brick wall kind of day.’

‘Well get it over with quick so you can cheerlead me the rest of the way to Jack's place.’

‘Wa-ho, visiting your boy for the weekend, Bitty-bits. Sweet.’

‘Bless your heart, honey, I don’t need a hockey bro right now, I need damage control.’

‘Nervous, huh?’

‘Ya-huh. Why am I doing this again?’ Bitty rubs his forehead with his free hand and takes a deep breath. 

‘Bits. Do you actually  _ want _ to be doing this. Cause I can cheer you up kid, but I don’t want to help you make a bad decision.’ Shitty’s voice has lost its bravado. Bitty closes his eyes tight and keeps the tears from falling. They’re not even real tears, just anxious energy with nowhere to go. 

‘I really do, Shitty. I love him so much,’ he’s whispering, but with conviction, ‘and I’m still processing, you know, all the feels or whatever, but I want him. I don’t want to be without him, and I deserve to get what I want. Don’t I Shitty? Even if it means he’s not getting punished.’ 

‘Oh, Bits. It’s not about punishment. It’s about making sure you do the right thing by you.’ Shitty’s voice is low and soothing through the leagues of empty space between them. ‘He fucked up, and he told you about it, and he’s working to do all the right things. But if you don’t think you can get over it,’ Bitty makes to interrupt but Shitty shuts him down with a sharp  _ hear me out _ . ‘He had his dick in Kent Parsons mouth Bitty, while you were sleeping in his bed and missing his glorious ass and thinking he was missing you too, so nobody is gonna blink if you don’t think you can get over it-’

‘-Sweet Jesus, Shitty-’

‘-but you love him, and he loves you and he’s owning his mistake, so if you can find it within your blessed little baking booty to forgive him and move on, I think you two can be happy again.’ Bitty can almost hear Shitty nod with purpose. ‘And that’s all I have to say about it.’

 

Bitty lets the words sink in while he watches the world fly by at the window. It’s hard to talk to anyone about this, and Shitty’s not great at sugar coating stuff, but it allows him to stretch outside of his own head and body for a minute and see what he doesn’t always see from the inside. He and Jack  _ were _ happy. Neither of them would be so devastated by this turn of events if they weren’t heavily invested in each other. If they didn’t know what they were working so hard to fix. And when they’re together, he feels that familiar pull that is Jack, tugging Bitty into his orbit and latching on. It’s not that Bitty can’t live without him, but more that everything is just better with Jack. Food tastes better, stupid television is funnier, dancing is more fun when Jack is watching him, eyes shining, smiling that smile, and loving Bitty with gusto. 

 

If nothing else, this awful episode has proven Jack right. He does love Bitty, and Bitty lets himself see, is more conscious of, all the ways that Jack expresses that love. Bitty wasn’t confident enough to believe it before, but when he’s looking for it, it’s there. That same fear still eats at him, that he’ll never be good enough, and he’s resigned to the fact that, in fact, it might never go away. Probably regardless of who Bitty might be dating, that fear will always exist. He spent so much of his life being told he was less than, every single day. The fact that he’s here, about to graduate with a double degree in business and culture (with an emphasis on food), has just captained his team to a semi final in the NCAA, and has a family of friends that would probably kill for him (not that he would ever verbalise that, plausible deniability and all) is testament to how wrong they all were, and how right he was, to fight to prove that he was better.

 

‘I think everything’s gonna be alright, Shitty,’ he says, and means it.

‘I don’t doubt you, brah. You’re fucking one in a million, Bitty. You got this.’ Bitty laughs and ends the call with a minimally tearful goodbye. He feels much better prepared now, armed with the idea that wanting to have this isn’t bad, he’s not failing.

His phone vibrates with a text notification.

 

**See you at the station. I’ll be the one in running shorts and a Falconer’s cap.**

 

Bitty laughs at his socially awkward, dork of a boyfriend. 

 

**Thanks for the heads up. sometimes your incognito mode is just too stealthy for little ol’ me (‘) >**

 

**Just incase you forgot what I look like - jpg.**

**I miss you**

**Love you**

 

**Jack, honey, I’ll be there in like 2 min. bless your sweet maple crusted canadian heart.**

**I can’t believe you just took a selfie in the amtrak station**

**It is a crime how photogenic you are, good lord. and i know first hand you wake up looking that good. so unfair.**

 

**Bitty, you know you are the most beautiful person I have ever met, right? I literally have a hundred photos of you in my apartment. It is impossible to take a bad photo of you.**

 

**hush (*^-^*)**

 

**And I remember what you look like first thing in the morning.**

**Takes my breath away.**

**Every time <3**

 

**omg, sweetheart, did you just use an emoji?**

 

**Ha ha. That’s true love, Bittle.**

 

**btw it’s 103 photo’s ;)**

**and I love you too <3**

  
  


Bitty nearly loses his shit when Jack grabs him at the station and kisses him like Bitty’s lips are a lifeline. He doesn’t even have it in him to pull back, just gives in to the kiss and then stares up into Jack’s shining eyes when they separate to breathe again. 

‘Jack, what are you doing?’ Bitty asks, surprise and shock probably dominating his expression.

‘Saying hello to my boyfriend.’ Jack says, slyly stealing Bitty’s bag to throw over his shoulder and his hand to grasp as they walk to the car.

‘You’re crazy!’ Bitty exclaims, somewhere between horror and awe. Surely Jack realises how dangerous this is.

‘I’m sick of hiding Bitty. I meant it when I said it before. I mean it now.’ Jack suddenly looks at Bitty seriously. ‘I’m done pretending.’

‘Please don’t do this for  _ me _ , Jack.’ Bitty is silently terrified that Jack is misguidedly trying to use coming out as a way to win Bitty back.

‘This is not some impulsive grand gesture, Bits. This is because I miss you so fucking much, I want to be able to see you as much as I can. I want to pick you up and hug you, I want to hold your hand in public. I want to fly you out to the games when we have stupid long roadies. I want to see you sitting in the family section at games so everyone knows that you’re my boyfriend. I mean, even that’s not enough, and I know it’s all you can give me for right now, but I feel like we can never have the possibility of forever on the table if I don’t make an effort to prove how important this is to me now.’ They’ve stopped walking at the edge of the carpark somewhere, Jack’s passion overwhelming them both.

‘I don’t want to be the reason your hockey goes to shit, Jack. I don’t want you to resent me if all this gets to be too much for you.’ This is a fear that Bitty has long held. It's only intensified in the aftermath of their temporary relationship breakdown.

‘Bitty,’

‘I’m so scared that if it gets to be too much for you, if you can’t play hockey, I mean, hockey is your everything, Jack!’ If he’s a little bit hysterical (still quietly though, ever mindful of drawing a crowd to Jack’s personal life) it’s only because he’s finally decided to give in to the possibility of being ‘them’ again and suddenly it’s being threatened anew.

‘It’s not, Bits. It’s a big part of me, yes. and I love it, and I want to play for as long as my body holds out. But I want you more, Bitty, and I want me too. I want to be able to be  _ me _ , the way that you get to be  _ you _ because you're brave enough to let the whole world see exactly who you are.’ The calmer Jack sounds, the more Bitty can see that this is something he’s thought about, really thought about, and come to a decision on. 

So Bitty nods and squeezes Jack’s hand, because he gets that, wanting the freedom to just be who you are. He really does. ‘Okay, baby. How do you want to do this.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, really. Did you just get up on your soap box there and think I wouldn't support you one hundred percent?’

‘Fuck, I love you.’

‘Good, cause this is gonna be tough, sweetheart, and you’re gonna need to remember that from time to time.’

‘I could never forget that, lapinou.’

‘You’d best not, Mister Zimmermann. I’ll hold you to it.’ Jack’s smile is ridiculous, like a planet just went into supernova right in front of Bitty’s eyes. It’s hard not to get caught up in his enthusiasm. 

‘I don’t want to make a big statement or anything. I just want us to be us, no pretending, no holding back, and then if someone asks about it, we’ll just tell them the truth.’

‘That we’re together.' Jack nods. 'That I’m your boyfriend.' Nod. 'That you're gay.’ He pauses.

‘I think that might be best yeah. I mean, I don't think the media is going to properly understand me being demi or grey-ace’

‘Is that how you identify, sweetheart? You never told me that.’

‘I talked to Shitty about it a bit. I guess now I know I’ve never felt for anyone the way I feel about you. The things you make me feel, I mean, I've never felt that before.’ Bitty is thrown by that somewhat.

‘Not even-’

‘No. Not even for him, Bits. Only you.’ Bitty slots that thought away to be processed later. For now he just wants to enjoy this revelation. 

‘Take me home, Mister Zimmermann.’ he says, putting his hand in Jack’s. 

‘To our home?’ he asks with a grin the size of Texas.

‘Yes, honey, our home. Let’s get out of this station. Lord, I need to get you alone.’

‘You know that’s one of the nice things about coming out, we don’t have to wait to be behind closed doors anymore, Bitty.’

‘That’s as may be, honey, but I don’t think these lovely people would appreciate my jumping your bones right here in the middle of the parking lot.’ Jack’s eyebrows raise comically and Bitty shoo’s him into the car with a grin of his own.

 

_X_

 

Bitty, true to his word, jumps Jack as soon as they close the apartment door behind themselves. 

‘Oh god, Jack, I need to touch you.’

Bitty reaches up to catch Jack in a kiss that forces him into the door. Jack slides his hands under the cleft of Bitty’s ass cheeks and lifts, Bitty, ever intuitive, picks his legs up and wraps them around Jack’s waist without hesitation. 

‘You smell so good, Bits,  _ crisse _ , I missed your smell.’

Bitty’s hands are wrapped around Jack’s neck, fingers carding into the hair at the nape there. 

‘I missed everything about you, baby.’ Bitty sighs into Jack’s open mouth. ‘Take me to bed now, honey.’ Jack doesn’t waste time in getting them there, falling back to sit at the base of the bed, Bitty landing to straddle his hips. Jack’s lips move to suck and bite at the sensitive skin of Bitty’s throat and up to his favourite spot, just below his left ear. Bitty, for his part, makes soft little noises of encouragement, mostly because he can’t stop them from escaping, he feels so good. He’s so tuned into Jack, so turned on by him, the heat of this moment has been building in him for what feels like months (and actually has been, really), and just now promises to finally break against something. 

‘Bitty,’ Jack says softly, breaking his mouth away from Bitty’s neck and slipping his fingers up and under his green button down. ‘Can I take this off?’ he gestures to the shirt by lifting it further with his hands. Bitty nods and bites down on his lip to keep from moaning at the feel of Jack’s hands on his bare torso. Jack undoes each of the buttons and slides the shirt down Bitty’s arms and off onto the floor. ‘ _ Merde _ , you are beautiful.’ Jack says, trailing off in a litany of French that has Bitty’s heart beating like mad and his dick straining at the fly of his jeans. 

‘Fair’s fair, honey. Off please.’ Bitty says, tugging at the hem of Jack’s grey dry-fit tee-shirt. Jack pulls it off gracefully, tossing it across the room. The sight of Jack’s gorgeously naked chest, the sculpted musculature of his arms, the prominently displayed abdominals (a body that has been worshipped in magazines and billboards as a specimen of perfection) makes Bitty proud to have held on so long to his principles. But fuck principles, Bitty is going to absolutely devour this man, he has his own permission now, to just get what he wants. Jack has other ideas though, standing up off the bed to turn them around and lay Bitty down. Tracing the lines of the defined muscles of his chest and stomach with his tongue. Coming back to mouth and bite first one and then the other nipple. Bitty arches his back and exhales sharply at the sensation sending warmth to pool in his groin. All the while Jack murmurs in broken French and English, reaching Bitty’s jeans and peeling them off his legs (no mean feet considering the lunge battles he and Dex have been undertaking in Ransom’s absence) only to kiss his way back up the inside of Bitty’s ankle, calf, and thigh. He asks a gasping permission to remove Bitty’s briefs (given with a somewhat erratic nod of Bitty’s head) and Bitty’s fists grip the sheets fiercely in an effort not to grind his hips up into Jack’s face. 

 

Once Jack has licked and sucked his way onto Bitty’s dick, Bitty's lost all semblance of control (he isn’t worried, he knows how much jack loves it) and is fucking up into Jack’s mouth, and back onto Jack’s slicked up fingers until finally sensation completely takes over, his orgasm breaks over him, and he rides it out on Jack’s warm tongue and then sinks into the bed with exhaustion. Jack eventually reaches back up to Bitty and brushes his hair across his forehead, gently cradling Bitty’s cheek in his huge hand. 

‘I’m sorry, lapinou,’ he says with flushed cheeks, as Bitty reaches down to take Jack’s erection in hand and finds it spent, ‘it just felt so good, I couldn’t hold back.’

‘That’s okay, sweetheart. We’ve got plenty of time for you to make it up to me.’ Bitty purrs. Jack smiles, and kisses and kisses Bitty until they fall asleep wrapped up tightly around each other. Tomorrow they get to do it all again. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. And thanks for the love!


End file.
